


First Times

by RHplus



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-war happy place, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RHplus/pseuds/RHplus
Summary: Star gladiator Megatronus and concerned citizen Orion Pax have met and become fast friends, but the first time Orion witnesses one of Megatronus' death matches, he is overwhelmed.Porn with just a little bit of plot: disgustingly tooth-rotting sweetness from before everything went wrong.





	1. The Feels

**Author's Note:**

> I was struck by late-night inspiration to write a short porn ficlet, but some couple thousands of words later I realized I was writing feelings: a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and no porn whatsoever: this is chapter one.
> 
> This fic happens during the early days of Megs and OP's acquaintance, and only Megatronus and Orion will appear. As such, I'm not actually sure if it's okay to tag this with Megatron/Optimus Prime...so if you know better, please leave a comment and tell me.
> 
> Some additional content relating directly to this fic may appear at a later date.

It wasn’t the first time for Orion to visit Megatronus’ personal quarters, but it was the first time he did so after they had kissed. Even if it was barely a klik later. Orion had ambushed his friend straight out of the ring, but Megatronus hadn’t needed any treatment after his most recent match outside of a tweak of a joint, and a wipe of a polishing rag to remove energon that wasn’t his own.

Orion was heating up with something like fear, but not regret. He had waited till there was no-one else present but Soundwave, at least. He knew Megatronus trusted the faceless mech like none other. Perhaps he could have chosen a better time and place, but after witnessing one of his friend’s death matches firsthand, he had been hard pressed to control himself even this much. And Megatronus hadn’t refused him; he had answered the kiss! In the heat of the moment, Orion hadn’t even considered how his advances might have been received. He’d just _needed_ to somehow convey how worried he had been, how witnessing Megatronus risk his life like that had caused anguish that overrode his conscious processor.

And yes, now that he had more time to think, he still didn’t regret it: Megatronus had answered his kiss.

Orion managed to return to the moment when Megatronus slid shut the door to his room, turning to face his guest with an air of hesitation that was all new to him. Still, he wasn’t one to waste time.

“Orion, we need to talk.”

“…Yes,” Orion admitted, clasping his servos in front of himself. He angled his optics up to meet Megatronus’, as the gladiator regarded him for a quiet moment. For all that Megatronus was one of the fighters who drew the biggest crowds and as such the most winnings to the arena, his room was bare and narrow. It didn’t normally bother Orion, but the new development made him feel nervous in such close quarters with the hulking warframe. It was practically impossible to keep their EM fields from colliding.

“I didn’t know you were…interested, in more than my ideas,” Megatronus said, somewhat experimentally. He…didn’t seem upset with the concept. Orion’s fans booted up softly, as his temperature climbed under the scrutiny of red optics.

“…Me neither, to be honest, not really. Not until I watched you…in the ring. I thought my spark would stop if…if something were to happen. To you.” Though it wasn’t that nothing had happened, after all, Megatronus had _killed a mech_ , it was either him or Megatronus, it had been a death match. But Orion couldn’t find the words to convey all this at the moment.

“Was that the first time you saw a mech die?” Megatronus asked suddenly, carefully.

“…Yes.” Orion’s nearly whispered answer made Megatronus’ sweeping brow ridges draw close as he looked aside, expression closing. It only lasted a sparkbeat.

“I’d figured you wouldn’t like it. You shoulda told me you were coming.” His voice was calm and controlled, and he regarded Orion steadily. He wasn’t going to defend what he did in the ring, what he’d done countless times, and would no doubt do countless times again. He wasn’t going to apologize for killing to stay alive, though Orion had read his writings, and knew he despised it. There was no way he didn’t, when he’d write so passionately about his and his fellow gladiators’ true enemy.

Orion’s spark ached for Megatronus, but he hadn’t the words.

“I came without telling you exactly because I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted to see. Needed to see.” He had wondered if witnessing how Megatronus lived, or rather fought and killed, would change his mind about the revolutionist gladiator. Perhaps make Orion understand and approve, or else, unable to accept him. Both choices had been equally terrifying. No doubt Megatronus now considered, just as he had himself before coming, how Orion might have slipped away just as he had come, unannounced. If he had decided he couldn’t stomach the matches, or Megatronus himself, any longer, their previous meeting might have become their last.

In the end, he _had_ learned many things: about Megatronus, about the Pits of Kaon, about the thousand-headed crowds who came to see the violence, and about himself, as well. He wanted to discuss all of that with Megatronus, because he had yet to make sense of the most of it, but first and foremost was what he’d learned about himself.

The gladiator had stayed silent, perhaps waiting for Orion to elaborate his reasoning. Or he just didn’t have anything more to say, knowing that Orion had read his texts, and they should have already suggested all he had to say about the Pits.

“Megatronus, I…I still can’t say I could make the choices you do, or truly accept them, but I do want to support you.” His optics dropped momentarily into his clenching servos, frustrated with his inability to convey his meaning clearly enough to his liking. “I mean, more. I want to be there for you, any way I can. With all my spark. I…I have to. I couldn’t bear not to!”

Orion peered desperately into the red optics above, stepping closer. Megatronus stayed as immobile as before, only rebooted his optics rapidly before answering. Was his voice a little rough with emotion?

“I will gratefully accept your support, Orion Pax. I appreciate it, and I mean it.” He extended one of his deadly clawed servos, and Orion rushed to grasp it in both his own. The archivist fancied that there was a solemn air about the situation, reminiscent of Megatronus’ writing, unlike his usual surprisingly casual manner.

Talking with Megatronus in the metal was usually very different from reading his writings, but Orion had come to adore Megatronus’ Kaonian accent. It had taken him a while to fit together the text, elegant and firmly correct, even if bluntly direct in structure, and the casual turns of phrase Megatronus used when conversing normally. Such expressions, and never mind the different pronunciation, were seen as uncivilized and boorish by educated mechs. But the harsh consonants fit so well with the rasp of Megatronus’ deep voice.

Orion almost had time to feel something akin to relief, but Megatronus continued soon. “…I wasn’t actually expecting a pledge of loyalty here, though.” Orion’s intake fell open at the gladiator’s teasing tone, and heat flushed through his systems. He refused to let go of the servo he was gripping, however.

“I’m…!” He frowned and his plating shifted in indignation, releasing a hiss of heated air. But what more could he say?

Megatronus made a sound that might have been a giggle from a mech perhaps three size classes smaller and a vocalizer set octave or two higher, and stepped past Orion to sit down on his berth. This way, their faces were roughly level, and Orion need not crane his neck just to meet his optics. Some of the tension dissipated, and Orion stepped closer. He was still holding onto Megatronus’ servo, that he now raised to his intake to press a chaste kiss on the sharply angled talons.

Megatronus remained silent for a moment longer, smiling weakly at Orion’s gesture, and Orion let him, feeling a refreshing sense of conviction.

“In the end, I have to agree. I guess you did need to see that. But I was also hoping you wouldn’t, at least for a bit longer.” Megatronus ex-vented wearily and closed his digits around Orion’s, pulling him closer. That made the level of charge in his systems jump slightly, and he reflexively clamped down his EM field as best as he could. However, Megatron simply brought their foreheads together, helms clacking quietly. The gladiator let his own EM field fold out slowly, just the nigh-imperceptible tickle of another mechanism close.

Megatronus’ warm ex-vents hit Orion’s faceplates, and vice versa, and the archivist held fast to the claws in his grip, unmoving despite his ventilations growing faster. Megatronus was staring into his blue optics, as if he was trying to see right into his processor. Orion thought he could feel that his friend would have wanted to talk about something: like how Orion had been so shaken by witnessing a spark gutter, yet the thousands of mechs in the audience had been roaring in a frenzy of approval without missing a beat. Or how this was the first time for the Iaconian data clerk to see a death, when it was common enough in the underground of Kaon that people would rarely stop in the streets just seeing a mech expire.

In the end, he said nothing, and instead shuttered his optics, red like the smelting pits where he’d sent all those other gladiators. “I can’t call you my mate,” he said instead. Orion’s spark jumped in its casing, suddenly whirling madly.

“Too fast?” Megatronus asked through a sharp-fanged grin, and Orion realized his EM field must have flared out of control.

“…No, I suppose it’s…logical enough.” Orion looked aside for a moment, but rallied soon, searching Megatronus’ optics again. He hadn’t considered as far as becoming mates, or perhaps even a bonded pair. Gosh, he hadn’t thought at all, period. Still, thinking of it now, he found the idea only too inviting. Even if it was ridiculous, a far-off pipe dream.

With a start, he realized that he would leave his life as an archivist in Iacon for this mech. In fact, if he was to follow this path, that was exactly what _would_ happen. If he was to be there for Megatronus, if he was to change the whole of Cybertron with him, there might no longer be a peaceful life for _anyone_ in Iacon, not in the same way as now. That was almost the whole point.

And Orion knew he would eventually find himself in the public eye, even if he intended to stay in Megatronus’ shadow, just a support. There was the possibility of danger, too. As Megatronus’ mate, he would draw the ire of various politicians, no doubt. Perhaps others, too. And Megatronus wouldn’t have that.

The enormity of the realization shook him, and Megatronus noticed his optics cycling wide open, the swaying of his pedes. He raised his free servo to Orion’s side, steadying him. Orion looked at him again, swirling thoughts focusing on how Megatronus would care for Orion like this. He worried for the millions of low caste mechs who were suffering, worried for the whole of Cybertron, and still he’d spare such consideration for a simple data clerk like him. Suddenly, his spark felt full to bursting, and he moved his servo to the side of Megatronus’ helm, smiling even as his optics welled with a sheen of excess cleaner.

“I believe I’m alright with that, at least as far as I can imagine now.” His voice was quiet, but steady. Megatronus was scanning his face plates, trying to gauge his mood in worry.

“You’ve proven yourself an asset to the Cause, Orion, and I won’t lie to you: that’s already enough to put you in harm’s way sooner or later. The closer you are to me…”

Orion interrupted Megatronus by pushing his lip plates against his, for the second time that cycle. It wasn’t a proper kiss, more like a seal stamped on a contract.

“Yes. I think it’s time I take that plunge. You and yours already do, each cycle, just by functioning. Isn’t that right?” There was pain in Orion’s voice, but determination also. Megatronus closed his intake and smiled in that certain way of his; it was a grim kind of satisfaction. Those red-hot optics flashed with a fierce pride, and Megatronus kissed him back in a similarly chaste fashion, before pulling him into an armor-grinding hug. Orion uttered a single, soggy laugh, and hugged back as best as he could. The thrum of Megatronus’ powerful engines transferred right into Orion’s chassis, and he pressed his face against his friend’s with all his strength.

When Megatronus finally released him, Orion rubbed his optics and smiled, leaning both servos on the gladiator’s red collar ridges. “So, what _should_ I call you?”

“Hrrmm.” Megatronus considered a good while, and his servos wandered to Orion’s hips. “Maybe ‘brother’ will do. We were born apart, but a shared purpose connects our sparks…”

Brothers. Not so unlike a spark bond: a single spark, split into two frames. It was rare, but there were such mechanisms. Orion realized it wasn’t a light promise, and his optic cleaner threatened to overflow again.

He laughed in honest joy. “How poetic!” He felt bold after sharing such an emotional moment, and caressed Megatronus’ helm again. “That is very like you. I like it.”

 


	2. The Frags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...After finishing that non-porny feelsy portion, the explicit inspiration returned with a vengeance and that...that is chapter two. And so, the porny bits are around three times longer than the emotional stuff. I suppose the idea lived up to its origins...

Megatronus allowed his engines to rumble contentedly and nuzzled Orion’s servo. Their optics locked, and something moved in the atmosphere, making Orion’s EM field lurch again. It wasn’t unpleasant, however, and Orion drew in a deep vent. Megatronus had said he hadn’t expected a pledge of loyalty; so what _had_ he expected? His processor suddenly spun into a completely different track, tying his fuel tanks into knots as it went.

It would have been hard for the gladiator to miss the change in Orion, and his small smile turned into a more serious expression. The claws caging in Orion’s pelvis moved slowly, petting up along his sides so lightly that it tickled the thin plating. Orion shuddered bodily, nervous again, thoughts spinning almost as badly as during Megatronus’ fight.

The gladiator seemed to hesitate again, and Orion wasn’t sure what to make of it. He hardly knew what to make of himself right now. It wasn’t that he’d never… He _had_ had some, hm, intimate moments, before, but it had been between friends…that was, different friends. Friends he’d met at work, during his normal upper mid caste life. Casual friends, though Orion felt a vague sting of guilt to think of them like that. They were good mechs, but they were not like Megatronus, whom he had searched for deliberately and ventured out of his home to find.

Furthermore, personal significance aside, Megatronus and Orion were both Cybertronians, but they were from different worlds. Things he had heard mechs say about low caste bots, gladiators in particular, surfaced unbidden from his memory banks. Although he hardly believed that sort of uninformed nonsense, he realized he didn’t have any actual information either. How _did_ the culture of miners, or Kaonites, or gladiators, possibly differ from what was normal between mid caste city bots in Iacon?

Megatronus’ formidable eyebrow ridges dipped and arched again, and he looked straight into Orion’s optics as he raised his voice. “I dunno how you do it in Iacon’s Hall of Records, but you kissed me, and I thought I felt your ‘field say you want me. Am I right?”

Megatronus had returned to his more direct manner with the Kaonite accent, and well, it was…direct. Which made sense, no reason to circle around the topic, but Orion still felt like his internals decided to spontaneously and hurriedly change places. It was just that he wasn’t sure how to answer. And despite how much he told himself he didn’t believe the stereotypes, it seemed they still colored his expectations even against his will. They were surely making him more nervous than he should have been. He _knew_ Megatronus, he _trusted_ him. He would never force himself on another mechanism, of that Orion was certain.

Megatronus waited patiently for him to find his words, scanning his face plates. He allowed his steady EM field to wash over the smaller bot, and his servos were a solid presence on the blue-painted hips. The little break helped Orion find his equilibrium again.

“I hadn’t actually thought quite that far ahead, to be honest.” Megatronus couldn’t hide his surprise completely, but it didn’t feel bad. Orion smiled at him. “That is to say…I do.” Saying it out loud made his internal temperature spike, and his cooling fans immediately let Megatronus know as well. Embarrassed, Orion lowered his optics momentarily, and Megatronus’ servos moved from his hips to gently gather his blunt-fingered black servos in long, silvery talons. “I suppose I simply didn’t consider that something would actually happen, about that.”

He dared a peek at Megatronus’ expression again, and was met with a slightly confused, but visibly amused gladiator. “Alright,” he rumbled softly, voice almost a purr. Orion wasn’t sure that amount of amusement was warranted, but, well. His EM field was still steady and welcoming.

“Well, anyways, don’t feel pressured,” Megatronus continued warmly. Orion nodded and squeezed his angular claws by way of thanks. He still had thinking to do.

In any event, he did know one thing: he wanted to be close right now. “I’d like to just sit down with you for a bit, for now. Is that alright?” Megatronus happily agreed and scooted further back on his berth, back plating meeting the wall. Orion was about to sit down next to him, but Megatronus probably wouldn’t have been the mech Orion knew if he hadn’t engaged in at least some mischief. And so, he scooped Orion up by his armpits and pulled him in his lap, flush against broad chest plates.

Orion made a sound of apprehension, but couldn’t suppress a small smile. He didn’t even attempt to escape the cage of thick metal limbs, and instead did his best to relax against the quietly thrumming warmth of Megatronus. He allowed his pedes to dangle over Megatronus’ crossed legs and off the edge of the berth. Megatronus’ arms, crossed across his front, were a comforting weight against him.

The gladiator allowed a silence to fall, but bent down to nose the blue helm in his lap. His heated ex-vents tickled Orion’s finials, but he stayed from actually touching him. Still, it was a bit unfair. “You’re cheating,” Orion told him. Megatronus only hummed wordlessly in reply, rough voice rolling like distant thunder.

It was nice. And really, imagining interfacing with Megatronus was less daunting than the prospect of risking his life for revolution. In fact, the thought made a pleasant warmth coil in his core, though restless energy also ran through his components, making it quite impossible to calm down. Orion squirmed, and found it was still somewhat beyond him to plan very far ahead the present moment.

So, what did he want, in the present moment?

Carefully, he placed his servo on Megatronus’ thigh, pushing his digits up the silver and red armor plating. The way the powerful limb twitched in response was quite gratifying. Still, he waited for Orion to speak.

“…I think, yes. I’d like some of that.” His voice came out quiet, bordering on feeble, and he reset his vocalizer with a short scratch of static. Megatronus stilled, radiating the full force of his attention at the smaller bot in his lap.

“Interface?” he confirmed, and somehow it was comforting that he sounded curious rather than eager.

“Yes.” Orion leaned back and tilted his face up at Megatronus, though he was still unable to catch his optics. Megatronus produced another humming rumble.

“Just to be clear, I’d love to,” Megatronus said and bent down so Orion could see his expression. He also hugged the archivist lightly, and Orion hung his servos on the thick plating guarding those arms. There seemed to be some kind of a problem, but Orion had no idea what. Megatronus’ optics didn’t actually focus on Orion, and he seemed instead to be formulating something in his processor. Orion waited in turn, doing his best to tamp down an emerging feeling of dread.

Finally, the gladiator spoke, though he had a false start just tensing his jaw cables. Even when the words came, they were unusually halting. His eyebrow ridges furrowed and he was still not meeting Orion’s optics. “Maybe you know…about how you can hire a fighter, hrrm, outside the ring.” Orion realized with a little start that Megatronus was embarrassed. And then his main processor caught up as well, and he suddenly didn’t feel so warm and overcharged anymore. Their EM fields were mixing freely now, and he sensed a fluctuation in Megatronus’, an increased output to counter the warframe’s verbal hesitation.

“I have heard of it, yes,” he answered quietly. He peered up at Megatronus from the corner of his optics, and the gladiator was still staring into space. In truth, he hardly knew what to think about the fact that at least some of the rumors were true.

“To be honest, it beats killing mechs for the crowd’s entertainment,” Megatronus continued, and a wry smile bent his intake. He finally glanced down at Orion’s face.

Orion found he, again, couldn’t think of anything to say. He knew it would be unthinkable for himself to…to interface for credits, but considering how Megatronus had little say in when and how he was to fight, how would this be any different? And it indeed _was_ better than offlining mechs, that he could picture. He said as much, though his delivery was quite bland to say the least.

“I suppose I can imagine that.”

He wanted to tell Megatronus he was sorry, and that he didn’t think any worse of Megatronus for it, but he felt it might be rude, high-handed. Instead, he pet the arm holding him, and leaned back against the solid bulk of his friend, pressing his cheek against him as best as he could. He hoped he was successfully emitting all that regard through their mingling fields, as well.

Megatronus raised a single claw and caressed his jaw, encouraging Orion to online the optics he’d turned off. He was smiling down at Orion, and just like that the situation wasn’t all that awkward anymore.

“Still good?” Megatronus asked warmly, and Orion’s spark _hurt_ with love for his friend.

“No, I’m… _I’m_ fine, of course, but… Are you okay with...?” Really, Orion wouldn’t have been surprised if Megatronus would rather not interface at all, anymore. And what if Orion, with his brightly-colored civilian-grade armor and blue optics, reminded Megatronus of his high caste abusers?

“This and that are different.” Megatronus actually smiled, one of the subtle smiles he would often direct at Orion. “And anyways, like I said, clanging some noblemechs every once in a while really isn’t that bad.” He grinned lasciviously at the fluster such direct words caused in Orion. “…Although, I guess I’ll keep my valve under wraps this time. Save it for later.” He winked one of his optics at Orion, who had no choice but to shut his intake and accept Megatronus’ words. He had a definite feeling that the gladiator was putting up a brave front, but talking about it, _at least that_ , would be his choice.

“Alright. Thank you for telling me,” Orion said, much more seriously than his friend, and squeezed his armored plating in an attempt to project at least some of the tender feelings that were flooding his spark.

For a moment, he silently nuzzled against Megatronus some more until he felt a little more confident again. Experimentally, he wiggled in Megatronus’ hold, pressing his aft against the elaborate plating covering the gladiator’s crotch. He smiled a little wider as the huge servos on him stiffened fractionally.

“…Other than that…” the gladiator continued, pitched ever so slightly higher. “…There’s the issue of compatibility.” Now he sounded apologetic, and Orion tilted his head in the opposite direction from last time, confused.

“What do you mean?” he asked, and was caught by surprise by Megatronus’ cooling fans starting off right behind him, under the thick chest plates. Still embarrassed? But why?

Megatronus fished Orion’s servos out to hold them, again, and finally looked down at Orion, awkward as it was when they were positioned so close. “I take it you haven’t been with a heavy labor frame before,” he said, and Orion caught up, optics falling forward.

“Oh,” he said, rather higher pitched as well. Perhaps he should have realized, but then, he wasn’t such a small bot himself. In fact, he was easily the largest archivist he knew of, as his alt form was a pickup truck, rather than a camera or a memory stick, or maybe a small car, as was most common…though there was also that miniature crane from wing B, over at the ornly publications… But that was neither here nor there, and Orion struggled to clear his processor.

“Well. I haven’t, no.” He decided he’d strained his neck joints enough for the moment, and instead turned around in Megatronus’ arms, leaning away, and the gladiator kept his servos at his back, supporting him. “To be honest, I’ve just…traded servo jobs, before.” Speaking of such things out loud, _even if very quietly_ , forced extra rounds from his fans, though he felt it should be natural enough to discuss these things, considering the situation.

Megatronus released a sound of assent, and smiled briefly. “In that case, I’m honored.” Orion thought he could feel a little happy thrill in the EM field around him, and cracked a quick smile in return, to signal he was thankful for Megatronus not making a big number about his experience, or lack of it. Not that Orion knew if it was something that might shame a bot in the mines, or the Pits.

The red optics were still searching Orion’s expression, trying to read his mood, scan his field. Orion found that he was actually curious, now. Sure, Megatronus was large. Few other gladiators bigger than him, even. Orion himself came up to around the lower half his chest, and he had a slighter build as well. But surely, it wasn’t too much of a gap? He’d met couples who got around worse. And there was certainly no need to go all the way, if a problem of some kind occurred…

“I suppose we should perhaps take a look, and figure it out from there?” he finally said, a mild but mischievous smile playing on his face plates.

“…Just as long as you know what to expect,” Megatronus replied, and would probably have raised his servos in a gesture of surrender, had he not been supporting Orion’s back struts with them. “And…for the record, all of the mods were all Ratbat’s idea,” he finished in a defensive tone, EM field lurching for the briefest moment. That piqued Orion’ curiosity anew, even if Megatronus’ tone wasn’t entirely promising.

“When you had your reformat?” Orion queried, now reaching for Megatronus’ face, gathering his pedes under himself to be able to raise himself higher.

“Yeah,” Megatronus admitted, and bent down slightly to meet Orion halfway for another kiss.

This time, it was a proper one, like their first one near the entrance to the staff only-section under the arena, but less hurried. Orion’s frame felt tense, his plating a thin cover for current that seemed to have been standing by somewhere and now wildly crashed all through his systems. He only registered this all remotely, however, as most of his attention was drawn to his intake.

Megatronus was being careful, so very attentive. Orion felt like he’d soon need to assure his friend he wasn’t all so breakable as Megatronus seemed to think. Curiously, Orion slipped his glossa out to meet the sharp tips of Megatronus’ dentae. Surprise made Megatron emit one of his wordless rumbling sounds, and pressed together like this, it made Orion’s frame shudder as it resonated. He moaned quietly into the kiss.

He managed to avoid nicking his glossa on the razor-like fangs, and eventually pulled back, sitting on his knees. He licked his lip plates briefly, wondering at the taste of foreign oral lubricant. It wasn’t _new_ to him, but it wasn’t like he was very used to it, either.

His optics darted down from Megatronus’ face, and slowly, he placed an open palm on Megatronus’ chest plates, right above his spark. The warmth, the minute vibrations of cooling fans running out of tune with flight-capable engines, the flux of a strong EM field…it all felt lovely. He smiled at his friend, his brother, and allowed his servo to sweep down the curving expanse of Megatronus’ chest. Some nicks, some scars, but mostly he was meticulously maintained. His sponsor, senator Ratbat, did want him looking just right to attract the crowds, not to mention in good shape to win the fights.

Encouraged by the archivist allowing his servos to wander, Megatronus did the same. He pet the small of Orion’s back, and purred approvingly when it made the bot arch his struts and push his aft up. He felt the smooth curve of Orion’s pelvic joints, and slipped his claws between the slender thighs, carefully raking across the blue plating concealing the interface array beneath. Orion twitched and twisted his hips, making a displeased sound. Megatronus quickly withdrew his servo, scanning his partner again.

“Megatronus! You’re tickling me…” Orion realized he was probably pouting, and Megatronus’ grin didn’t help.

“Sorry.”

“Just touch me, I won’t mind a few scratches.” He leaned his jaw on the swell of Megatronus’ thorax, most of his weight on his servos on the silver-and-red abdominal components, and pushed his aft against Megatronus’ claws. “I’m not so utterly fragile, you know.”

Megatronus’ arching eyebrow ridge said he wasn’t entirely convinced, but he did guide his talons back to Orion’s modesty plating, and this time, with proper pressure. Charge sparked beneath, and Orion’s vents hitched slightly. Megatronus wouldn’t be able to pleasure Orion with those claws, he knew, but they did feel quite exciting on the outer plating…

Still, Orion had a goal after all, and so he sat down on the exploring servo, pushing himself into position to properly view the wing-like shapes of armor protecting Megatronus’ interface array. Orion figured Megatronus would hardly feel a thing through them, unlike the archivist with his thin civilian-grade armor, but he placed an inquisitive servo on them regardless.

The design was quite artful, well suiting the flight frame Megatronus now was. Orion knew he used to have been a miner, a heavy ground frame, and briefly felt sorry for not being able to see that look. There were no proper pictures remaining, either. He had run some searches, privately.

Megatronus was apparently ready to oblige him, and the sweeping curves soon parted and folded away under Orion’s servo. Curious, Orion felt at the underlying thinner plating of Megatronus’ spike housing, slightly warmer to his touch than the surrounding protoform. He measured the diameter of the strip of smooth metal with a drag of his digits, and jumped slightly when he was jolted by a minute discharge of the current building underneath.

Now, he remembered to look up, and took in Megatronus’ expression. He was staring down at Orion, optics blazing, and mandibles working idly. His EM field was stable enough, so Orion hadn’t expected such intensity. It made a little thrill tingle in his internals, and he smiled automatically. Megatronus’ answering smile was mostly in his optics that narrowed fractionally.

Megatronus’ voice was even lower than usual as he spoke while pressing his claws against Orion’s pelvic armor more insistently. “Want me to do something for you? I’m pretty confident I can watch my dentae.” Orion stiffened, finials twitching. The suggestive tone made his valve clench, even sealed under two layers of plating.

He opened his intake, but had to swallow nothing and reboot his vocalizer before anything came out. “I’m…not sure?”

“Okay,” Megatronus agreed easily again, but kept rubbing his servos in small circles up and down Orion’s aft and legs. Absently, Orion realized those servos were large enough to encircle his thighs completely, and released a shaky ex-vent. He braced his servos on Megatronus’ chest plating again, and rose to meet him in a kiss. Megatronus was happy to reciprocate, and ventured to lightly nip at Orion’s lip plates, much to the archivist’s pleasure.

Kissing and being caressed by Megatronus while hanging onto his solid bulk was pleasant enough, but Orion was starting to sense a definite lack of something. When he pulled back, he was trembling slightly, but cleared his vocalizer, gathering his resolve.

“I’d like to see your connector,” he said, voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the sounds of two sets of cooling fans and engines.

Megatronus gave a wordless noise of assent, and leaned back slightly, bringing one servo to his interface array. Orion’s optics were drawn down as if by magnets, and he sat back as well. He hardly noticed his outermost plating engaging the small-scale transformation to reveal his own array.

Between long claws, the narrow strip of plating slid back and allowed Megatronus’ spike to pressurize. It was the color of polished silver, and adorned by a simple row of biolights along the underside. The little dots of light, the same red as his optics, winked from gaps between platelets that curved smoothly up to form twin rows of ridges on the topside. The look matched the rest of Megatronus’ frame quite beautifully, the sweep of the blunted ridges on the topside reminiscent of the curving spikes of his pauldrons. Ample lubricant issuing from the small opening at the tip painted shimmery wet strips on the shaft. It seemed the girth of the connector was only barely able to clear the rubbery rim of its housing, and the ridges kept catching. Grunting, Megatronus used his claws to ease the bumps past the narrow ring, kneading his array.

Orion stared at the slide of partly overlapping platelets as they slowly left their housing and moved apart to cover the swelling protoform underneath. His processor somehow felt like it was swimming, and his intake was dry. Without meaning to, Orion released a brief needy whine, so high-pitched it was hard to believe it came from a truckformer. His valve clenched almost painfully behind its cover, current stinging through his systems, and Orion couldn’t tell if it was irrational fear or simple anticipation. It looked to him as if Megatronus’ connector extended before him in slow motion, and his processor non-helpfully applied a fateful orchestral theme from some pompous historical holovid he had enjoyed earlier. That made him bark a laugh, constricted by embarrassment.

Megatronus’ soft sigh was what made Orion’s spark flush cold in panic, however. He certainly didn’t want to make his friend – brother uncomfortable! Thoughts of callous high caste mechs visiting Megatronus and treating him like some sub-sentient drone flashed in his processor, and he balked in fear of the notion of being like them. In desperation, he grabbed the still-swelling silver shaft, swallowing dry as his servo utterly failed to reach around the straining spike.

It was magnificent. Of course. Orion couldn’t have imagined anything but, on a mech as comprehensively overwhelming as the champion gladiator, Megatronus. And yet, it was still more than he had been able to picture.  Ridges and bumps and such, they were modifications, too exotic for a regular Iaconian worker mech, but he had to admit they suited Megatronus perfectly. But he hadn’t seemed too happy about them, apparently forced on him by his sponsor…it might be unpleasant if Orion was to compliment them. And why was he so obsessed suddenly? He had reflexively reined in his EM field as best as he could, though he knew Megatronus couldn’t tell much more than that his state of mind was tumultuous from it.

 “Orion,” the gladiator addressed him, so soft, as if he was a scaredy petrorabbit in need of coaxing. He hoped he wasn’t imagining the warmth in the rumbling voice, even if the consideration made his embarrassment burn all the harder. “It’s okay.”

Was Megatronus thinking that Orion was worried about hooking up for a tactile interface connection? Orion _knew_ it was okay, he knew Megatronus was kind and attentive. His new brother would no doubt have any number of ideas of how to go about this, ways that didn’t include trying to force that enormous connector into Orion’s un-modded valve.

So how could he say it was rather about Orion finding a thrill in how his brother fit all of the trashy exploitative fantasies circulated among mid- to high caste mechs? The large, dangerous warframe, all sharp points and inbuilt weapons, a peerless killer in the ring. All too much for a _civilized_ mech to handle: and yet still, here, bending to his whims.

And Orion realized he had wanted… And by Primus, he still wanted, that spike, that frame, the strength that could tear warbuilds apart. Wasn’t he just like one of those noblemechs who’d pay credits to enjoy a pit fighter as they pleased, amused by the perceived danger? Like the warframes they were toying with were some kind of wild beasts? He knew he was panicking and felt sorry in various ways, but he hadn’t truly expected to be swept up by his base desires as suddenly and strongly as this.

Still, he knew he had to speak, he was being rude.

His voice came out kind of squeaky and he flinched slightly at it. “I’m sorry, I just…I just.” He laughed again, a single sound of self-deprecation. “I realized…it seems I’m just like all those well-off bots who don’t know better?” How could he explain? “I…you’re just. Very attractive. I really wanted you inside me. You are so.” His vocalizer constricted on itself again, and he could feel his systems burn with shame. He managed to continue in whisper. “Beautiful…strong…” The words turned into a strangled groan, and Orion finally realized he’d been staring at Megatronus’ connector all this time, without sparing a glance to his face.

Looking up, he saw that his partner seemed conflicted, but his powerful motors were also thrumming in an increasingly high gear, generating charge that made his systems heat up and irradiate Orion in his burgeoning EM field like a miniature sun.

“Thanks,” he uttered simply, and Orion didn’t know what to make of the note of strain. His optics were searching Orion, possibly unsure as to what had caused the outburst. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.” He flashed one of his fanged smiles, lopsided and absolutely charming.

Orion’s spark danced. It wasn’t the first time someone had complimented his looks, in Iacon or in Kaon, but it was the first time it made him feel so…floaty.

“Thank _you_ ,” he whispered back and smiled weakly, hoping that his blooming EM field would convey he truly was flattered. After a short pause, he rallied himself. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, please tell me.” His voice was louder now, but still shaky, and he looked seriously into Megatronus’ optics. Belatedly, he realized he was still grasping onto the thick, heated shaft, and quickly let go, putting his servo back in his lap. “I…I wouldn’t want to…be like… I would hate to remind you of…”

Megatron made a small sound as Orion’s servo left his spike, and braced both his servos on the narrow blue hips again, as if to steady himself as well as his partner. Red optics bored into blue ones, intensely serious.

“Slag no, Orion,” he _growled_ , and his claws flexed. “Should I take it you’re getting off on me being…big? With claws and battle-grade armor and all?”

Orion promptly shunted scalding-hot air at that; just how was Megatronus always so good at drawing the right, _inconvenient_ conclusions? He managed to keep his face up, though he shuttered his optics and his intake narrowed into a bleak line, just as his EM field shrunk back again, close to his frame.

“Orion: it’s fine, it’s all good. It’s _flattering_ ,” Megatronus continued, and Orion shivered at the intensity of his absolution. “Let’s face it: I’m amazing like that, so it’s hard to avoid.” An insufferable smirk was creeping on his face plates now, and Orion fisted his servo, punching Megatronus’ thoracic armor ineffectually.

The gladiator laughed, and so caused Orion to finally relax, as well. Megatronus leaned in, petting a single large claw along Orion’s cheek, and they kissed briefly. Afterwards, Megatronus’ warm, fanged smile was met with Orion’s.

“Good, there’s the smile. This _should_ be fun, after all.”

Orion puffed air from his vents at his brother’s teasing comment, but nuzzled the claw still framing his face. He was starting to feel his charge again, and besides that, a vaguely uncomfortable soggy and cramped feeling in his interface array.

Emboldened by the return to a more familiar, companionable atmosphere, Orion scooted a little closer. “You know, I was scared when I first saw you,” he ventured, staring up at the narrowly helmeted face. He reached out again and dragged his servo experimentally up the massive connector between them, marveling at the feel. Just as smooth as his own, on the underside at least, but the scale was so different…it seemed big even for Megatronus’ frame. Orion wondered idly how much of it was senator Ratbat’s insistence.

“Many are,” admitted Megatronus, and with a thrill, Orion noticed a minute vibration travel in the cabling of his abdomen. He kept stroking Megatronus’s spike. “S’good, considering.”

“I also…thought you were terribly handsome,” Orion continued, quieter. He was rewarded with an open look of joy on the severe face components.

“That so? I thought higher caste mechs over in Iacon and Praxus and such tend to go for the slender look. Seeker style.” As if he didn’t know about the significant number of fans he had in both cities. Of course, it was hardly something one would announce in polite company, that you fancied an ex-criminal Pit fighter.

“Maybe it’s a cultural thing born from lack of exposure and colored perspective. Or maybe I have a fetish,” supplied Orion innocently, finding his smile again.

“Mm-hmm?” Megatronus purred inquisitively, daring Orion to go on. “Then show me how hot you find me?”

Needing no further encouragement, Orion grinned and squeezed the spike in his hand, bringing his other servo to slide along its length as well. Visibly pleased, Megatronus released another small roll of contained thunder, and leaned against the wall.

“Why don’t you open up, too, Orion?” The suggestion was increasingly enticing, with how his interface array was feeling more and more like it might slosh if he moved too much. Looking down, he pursed his lip plates for a fleeting moment. It was embarrassing, just in a different way, but he willed his remaining paneling to retract all in one go.

His exposed valve clenched again, and then irised open: he felt the sticky warmth of lubricant ooze freely to drip on the berth and down his thigh. He couldn’t see that far down himself, but he could feel the pliant folds of protoform shielding the opening, slicked and engorged, aching for pressure. His connector had been throbbing and stinging in its housing, ready to go, and now it emerged with a crackle of excess charge, lubricating eagerly as well. Looking down as he was, Orion observed his spike bob and straighten as if startled by meeting another one of its kind. Now, he had always fancied he was decently sized, but he was, after all, absolutely dwarfed by Megatronus. A warm flush of current, fueled by embarrassment and powerful lust all in one, washed through him from the tips of his finials down to his pedes, finally gathering in his interface array.

He glanced up and saw Megatronus looking down as well, and was rattled by another wave of that heat. Megatronus seemed to hesitate, servo stilling midair, so Orion gathered his courage and shuffled even closer, bringing their connectors together.

Charge zinged between their members at contact, making Orion squeak and twitch. Megatronus hissed in pleasure. Orion pressed his upper body against Megatronus’ rounded chest plates, pushing his pelvis forward to grind their equipment together. The friction and the zap of excess charge was delicious, but none of it was enough. He wanted to be closer, to melt right into Megatronus and disappear.

This time he dragged his digits against the curving ridges on the upper side of Megatronus’ connector, pressing it against himself on the other side. Each segment had two identical platelets that met topside, each with one elevated bump, leaving a narrow channel between them. There was a small amount of give, and it felt quite pleasant in his servo. Orion tried to imagine what that would feel like in a valve, but he didn’t have enough experience to make any good guesses. He shivered, smearing the generous lubricant dripping down the shaft over both of their spikes.

Megatronus’ engines were purring steadily, and he was raking his claws against Orion’s backside again. As the talons found Orion’s open valve, they twisted, and he carefully smoothed his knuckles over the dripping, rubber-like cushioning, drawing a breathy sound from the archivist. The stimulation was nice, but Orion found that at the moment, he would rather focus all his attention on the excellent connector he had asked to see.

Indulging in his impulse, Orion scooted back and broke contact with Megatronus, eliciting an unhappy whine that made him smile. Who knew the champion fighter Megatronus could be cute? Orion considered kneeling on the floor in front of Megatronus, but realized he wouldn’t comfortably reach his prize like that. Instead, he settled on his knees on the berth, next to his friend. Megatronus followed him, and turned to face him, leaning his left shoulder to the wall.

Orion reached up for one more kiss, but soon broke off and bent forward to hungrily take the tip of Megatronus’ spike in his intake. He pressed his glossa against the little opening at the top, and drew a sizzle of electricity from the smooth surface of the uppermost biolight right under it. To his surprise, he found that the taste was not unpleasant, even if he imagined the slimy feel of lubricant could have been off-putting. In any case, he was now much too keyed up to care.

Megatronus’ pleased little growl turned into another hiss, and the servo he’d quickly placed at Orion’s back as soon as he’d stilled again twitched, claw tips scratching plating with a little screech. Orion would have grinned at that, had his lip plates not been otherwise urgently engaged.

Perhaps he was being greedy, but Megatronus’ reactions were not dampening his enthusiasm in the least. Orion’s dentae were blunt, so he didn’t much worry about them, and instead stuffed as much of the fat connector into his intake as he could. Orion found himself moaning eagerly, muffled by the thick heat forcing his mandibles apart to the limits of their mobility. The blunt tip of the spike hit the back of his oral cavity, and he choked shortly, trying his best to swallow around the intrusion.

“Calm down,” Megatronus grunted through gnashed dentae, pushing Orion’s forehead back with three digits. Orion replied with a stubborn wordless sound, frowning petulantly, and refused to let go. Instead, he tightened his grip of the throbbing length, and tried again, bobbing lower. His EM field roiled against the surge of Megatronus’, stoking his mounting over-charge. He could taste the electricity, and the vague sweetness of the viscous lubricant, now mixing with his oral fluid. It was amazing, and he wanted to never let go.

Megatronus was soon forced to realize this as well, as Orion kept insistently trying to inhale his connector through hums and moans. Huffing helplessly, he settled on petting Orion’s back, and the slighter mech curved his back to meet the pleasant pressure. Orion’s engine settled on a waning and cresting happy purr.

The archivist faced a hard limit before long, however, as the silvery spike twitched and throbbed, thickening one more all-important fraction. If he was to try and deep throat Megatronus, he would have to dislocate his jaw, and he was not equipped with that function. With a mournful whine, Orion pulled off of the spike, lip plates tight all the way to the tip. The wet metal slipped out with an obscene pop, but Orion dove right back to swirl his glossa around the tip. He ignored the mess of oral fluid and lubricant smeared on his faceplates and continued by laving the underside of the connector with his glossa. He was shaken by panting ex-vents, and settled to suckling at the seams between segments, where plump protoform was slightly bulging out between platelets. Megatronus’ abdominal components were trembling minutely with still tension, and his ventilations were uneven.

“Frag, Orion,” Megatronus murmured breathlessly, and Orion clenched up at the sound of his voice. “You know how to make a spike feel appreciated.”

The comment finally enticed Orion to let go for a while, and direct a sunny smile at Megatronus. The gladiator seized his chance and pulled Orion into a kiss, licking the inside of his intake. Orion’s engine revved indecently when he realized Megatronus must have been tasting himself. Partly to hide his fluster, Orion ducked down again, and this time, focused his glossa on those lovely nubs crowning the top side of Megtronus’ connector. His servos were absentmindedly squeezing and petting the imposing shaft, turning it so he could better get his intake on the ridges.

Megatronus had been content to let Orion busy himself as he pleased, but now he seemed to pick up on how his partner had started slightly squirming and rubbing his thighs together. “You sure you don’t want me to return the favor?” he asked good-naturedly, releasing a pleasured ex-vent.

Orion slowed down, but kept kissing the spike. Ponderously, he closed his dentae carefully around the tip of one curving ridge, then sucked on it vigorously. Megatronus’ entire chassis shivered ever so slightly, making Orion’s spark soar. He was loathe to let the spike out of his mouth, but his own array _was_ starting to distract him.

Orion licked his lip plates and looked up, still half-sprawled on Megatronus’ lap and clamping down on his connector. Megatronus’ captivated expression, directed at him so intensely, was making his fuel tanks do interesting flip-flops. “…Thank you, but I think…I’d rather do something else?” His cooling fans spun an extra rotation with how his voice had gotten a little hoarse.

“Sure. I might not last too long with this sorta handling, mind,” Megatronus answered, cocking an eyebrow ridge to match a slanted smile. Orion released a happy little laugh, and nuzzled the connector he was still stroking in small movements.

“I don’t think I’d mind,” he admitted, meekly pleased. An inexperienced data clerk like him coaxing such obvious pleasure from someone like Megatronus…he rather imagined he might be able to overload on that thought alone.

“So, what’ll it be, Orion?” Megatronus drawled at him, bending a little closer, and Orion made another small, high-pitched sound without meaning to. His designation in that voice, husky with arousal, was certainly doing things to his interface equipment.

Gathering his wits as best as he could under the circumstances, Orion regretfully let go of the rigid connector and shakily sat on his knees. He vented in surprise, feeling a good dollop of lukewarm lubricant roll down his thigh with the change in position. He considered the great silvery frame before him, and looked down at himself as well, steadying himself with a servo braced on Megatronus’ arm. The gladiator regarded him with eager anticipation, and corrected his position slightly.

Orion felt his wet valve experimentally with his servo, even as he walked on his knees and climbed on Megatronus’ legs. The gladiator hummed an inquisitive noise, but accommodated Orion as he positioned himself. Orion peeked down again, turning his head to and fro, and adjusted his hips. Then, he realized he had better turn to face the opposite direction, and chuckled at the silliness of the situation. He got up on his pedes on the berth and was rewarded with a rare view of Megatronus’ faceplates below his optic level. With a thrilled little sound, he bent to briefly kiss Megatronus, and was answered with some more gentle nips at his lip plates.

Impatient as he was feeling, he broke off quickly and grinned in passing, before turning around and lowering himself tentatively in Megatronus’ lap, back to his front, and pedes spread out over Megatronus’ impressive thighs, wide enough to make his joints sting and creak. Orion positioned himself over the eagerly jutting connector, and reached a servo to support it from the underside. The whole of Megatronus’ frame was warm against him, his connector hot in his servos; yet, against his interface array, it felt close to burning, maddeningly good. Orion rolled his hips slowly, pressing his swollen valve lips, anterior node, and finally his own spike against the lovely rows of rounded nubs.

He vocalized wordlessly, and quite a bit louder than he had planned to, at the pressure of the hot, solid bulk on his components, charge zapping from one mech to another. The closely set nubs dragged both sides of the anterior node, stimulating it marvelously.

Megatronus had kept silent save for a soft, short grunt, but his servo joined Orion’s in pushing the giant silver spike up against Orion’s array. The position was truthfully quite awkward, but Megaronus’ seemed well able to appreciate Orion’s intention.

“Ah. May I?” Megatronus asked, wearing one of his scheming smiles, and Orion nodded frantically, ventilating roughly and struts all across his body straining from effort.

The gladiator carefully - even now - took hold of his waist and moved Orion like he was a doll. His internals fluttered and he gasped again. Megatronus positioned Orion against the recharge slab, aft up and chest plates flat to the berth. He spread his own pedes wide, and wider, to get a good angle low enough to meet Orion’s array. He bent his huge frame over Orion’s, leaning his head on an arm he braced against the berth above his partner, and the weight bearing down on Orion made his ventilations hitch anew. A clawed servo engulfed Orion’s, pressing it up against the spikes, and the two frames above. Then, he moved.

Megatronus rolled his hips slowly into his and Orion’s servos, dragging his spike against all his partner’s super-conductive interface equipment. Considering the strength with which the angular claws were pulling Orion up and against Megatronus, he had no doubt his pelvis would have left the berth again, had the gladiator not been bearing down on him so closely. Orion keened and banged his helm against Megatronus’ chest above him, leg and pelvic joints tensing also to press himself up against the implacable weight. Megatronus’ approving rumble, emitting both from his vocalizer and his engines, rattled Orion.

Orion kept twitching and releasing incoherent sounds of pleasure, just as Megatronus kept moving at an insistent rhythm. Orion could feel his own connector twitch with unreleased charge, though most of the sensations focused on his valve and the wonderful drag of Megatronus’s spike ridges against and between his valve lips. The nubs teased the platelets of his opening, irising open and shut ineffectually in an attempt to catch something inside, while the cavity inside was flexing in futile longing as well. He might have mourned the emptiness, had he not been rendered quite unable to do more than writhe from the stimulation to his anterior node alone.

“Hghk….kuh, close,” Orion managed a strangled whimper. Megatronus hummed a ponderous rumble, sounding much more composed than he had any right to. At least his high-strain ventilation fans were still drowning out Orion’s.

“I want to see you,” Megatronus ground out, above his helm, and Orion answered with a questioning whine, through lip plates scrunched shut in concentration, trying to hold out, ride the pleasure as long as he could.

Orion yelped breathlessly as he was moved again, fuel tank lurching with the momentary feeling of weightlessness. Megatronus sat back on his knees, bringing his partner with him, and Orion grumbled slightly as the lovely stimulation paused while the gladiator was adjusting his position.

“Legs, extend your legs,” Megatronus instructed a touch breathlessly, and Orion let his head loll to the side to try and see his expression. He was feeling quite pleasantly strutless with electricity sparking through his chassis and sparking in his joints, but still did his best to comply with Megatronus’ guiding touches. He shivered and sounded a happy noise when he realized what the gladiator was after, as his thighs now constricted the thick silver connector emerging from between them.

He had never let go of the shaft, and now eagerly pulled it against himself with renewed vigor. He stared down, taking in the magnificent connector rutting between his thighs, against his own silver-blue spike with its little red accents and frantically surging blue biolights. It was so burning hot, and pulsing with an unpredictable rhythm, slick with mixed lubricants, and even a slight grainy sheen of pre-release nanites leaking out. It was by no means a position optimal for moving his hips, but Orion managed to thrash against the rigid connector, aided by Megatronus’ strong claws now on his aft and pelvic rims again, boosting him up in short nudges.

Orion clenched his dentae and groaned, curling inwards and then arching back against Megatronus’ armor with a resounding clang, charge erupting in bright flashes between his valve components and Megatronus’s trembling connector. He heard Megatronus halt his ventilations and stiffen, but then lost count of anything that wasn’t the overload tripping up all of his conscious processes, making him writhe and shiver uncontrollably.

He came down with panting ventilations, rutting against the still extended spike, chasing the last aftershocks. Megatronus was venting hot down his back, talons rigid around his thighs. Orion’s servos twitched around Megatronus’ connector, as he was still holding it. So he ended up ignoring Megatronus after all, to chase his own release… As if he were an interface aid used for his convenience.

Orion craned his neck to look up at his partner apologetically. His array trailed a thick string of sticky lubricant when he got on shaky knees, shuffling between the imperceptibly trembling silver-armored thighs.

“Oh, Megatronus, I’m sorry…” he started, but was immediately interrupted by Megatronus bending down to mouth at his faceplates. Orion was slightly confused, but lifted his face to turn it into a brief kiss.

“None of that.” Megatronus shut down his apologies with a low growl, not angry, but strained. His optics were bright and painted Orion’s faceplates in a reddish glow. Orion’s gaze slipped back down to the very erect spike straining between them, and back to the red optics.

“Um, then…how will you finish…?” Orion asked.

“How’d you like me to?” Megatronus answered, smiling slowly, and the intensity of his look was enough to make Orion’s spent valve contract again and a persistent bolt of current run down his spinal struts.

Orion hesitated for a moment, captivated by Megatronus’ hungry expression and the lingering pangs of pleasure, intake hanging ajar. “…Can you…come on my faceplates…?” he finally dared, voice small.

He hadn’t expected such a strong reaction, but Megatronus’ optics widened and flashed, a powerful rev of engines shaking his chassis. If Orion hadn’t just overloaded, he was certain he’d have done so now. Now, he just stared up with wide optics, open lip plates curving gently into a thrilled smile. “…Please?” he ventured, and was rewarded by a low-pitched groan that shook his plating, as well.

Orion slid down to sit on the berth, legs splayed both sides, and braced himself upright with his servos, some of his joints and cabling still unresponsive after the system-wide overload. Megatronus, in turn, moved backwards and got on his knees, rising even further above Orion. He palmed his connector, looking down with an oddly wondering expression.

He started stroking himself urgently, and Orion stared, transfixed. In Megatronus’ massive servo, his spike seemed more or less reasonable, as well. He reached, craving to touch, but realized he’d get beaned in the face plates if he got close enough to paw at Megatronus’ legs or pelvic area. Still, he nudged himself closer, and made a longing sound, looking up to face red optics again.

“…Please, Megatronus, could you please come on my face?”

Megatronus’ answering smile was broad and open, flashing with glee, and did some more of those funny things to Orion’s insides. “That’s it, keep it coming,” he purred, and Orion complied, trying his best to produce acceptable dirty talk.

The shame made his internal temperature climb anew, and his valve was clenching again, though the plating shielding it had already extended back to cover the puffy protometal tissue. He’d ended up inching closer, and was wetting his lip plates with his glossa, wanting to taste the huge spike once more.

“Please, please let me put my mouth on it, Megatronus?” he pleaded, servo reaching. Megatron ex-vented shakily and moved his servo away, stilled his slowly pumping hips. Instead of leaving it all to Orion again, however, his claws cupped the back of Orion’s helm and pulled him in irresistibly. Orion was only too happy to comply, and dove closer with a pleased sound.

He put his servos around the bulging shaft, squeezing and stroking. He licked the underside, along the pulsing biolights, and lapped at the crowning opening eagerly. Megatronus’ servo was immovable around his finials, though the claw tips were also twitching with the effort of not forcing Orion further down on his connector. The way the spike was twitching, he figured Megatronus must have been close, and he spread his intake around the tip, offlining his optics. He sucked as hard as he could, pressing his glossa into the opening, and swallowed nothing around the oppressive shaft. Megatronus’ remaining servo closed around Orion’s, and squeezed hard.

Megatron finally came, with a roar suppressed into a groan, and Orion squeaked with happiness. The servo at Orion’s helm was slammed down hastily, clawing at Megatronus’ own thigh armor. Hot transfluid immediately flooded Orion’s oral cavity and burst out from between his tautly spread lip plates. Startled, he swallowed, trying to stop the rest from going to waste, but there was too much. He was making some quite undignified noises, and ended up coughing, as his intake pipe recognized it wasn’t energon he was guzzling. He let the connector slip out from his intake, and had his face plates painted with spurts of warm, viscous transfluid. It seemed to Orion to take a very long time for Megatronus to empty his load, but he did his best to coax it all out with gentle but firm pulls along the length of the connector. Megatronus sighed happily, finally crumpling down to sit on the berth also, and Orion smiled widely under the mess dripping down his face.

He stuck out his glossa and licked around his intake, trying to catch the cooling transfluid rolling past, and Megatron barked a short, elated laugh. He put his servos on the berth, both sides of Orion, and folded closer, the tip of his glossa poking out between his lip plates.

The sight was absurdly adorable, and Orion laughed right back at Megatronus. The gladiator didn’t even pause, but started cleaning Orion’s face with long drags of his glossa. Orion pinched his optics shut, offlining them as Megatronus’ broad glossa raked over them.

When Megatronus seemed content with his work, licking his lip plates as well, he cracked a smile and drew back. Lowering his pedes momentarily on the ground next to the berth, he stretched across the recharge slab with a contented groan. He ended up sprawled across his berth on his back, Orion captured in the crook of his left arm.

Orion took in the view, most notably Megatronus’ connector slowly retracting back into its housing. The ridges were catching briefly on the stretchy rubberlike tissue of the opening, again. He looked at Megatronus’ face, and back at the contracting spike.

Megatronus grumbled tiredly, but without any actual negativity. “Would you?” he asked, and Orion reached out to knead the protometal like he had seen Megatronus do earlier. With little help from Orion’s flat digits pushing at the decorative bumps, the connector managed to retreat into its sheath with no trouble. The soft, dark platelets irised shut to cover the opening, allowing the silvery strip of modesty plating to slide back up to hide Megatronus’ array.

“Thanks,” Megatronus murmured with a lax grin, and stroked Orion’s side companionably. Orion smiled back and arranged himself to lay on his side, one arm and leg on top of his brother.

His connector had retracted at some point, as well, and Orion found he was quite content regardless. The stickiness on, under, and around his interface paneling would require cleaning, but not right now. Post-overload Megatronus was pleasantly warm against him, engines running smoothly and falling in sync with his own.

Orion shuttered his optics and nuzzled against Megatronus, from face to pedes. Finally, with a happy sigh, he dug his digits into a ventilation slit as far across Megatronus’ chest armor as he could reach, and relaxed. The warframe next to him sounded soft pings as the metal of his chassis slowly cooled down.

He was halfway to falling into recharge, when Megatronus’ voice rasped straight through his plating and into his audials. “So I take it you’re fond of those, ah, romance novels? ‘Taming The Brooding Gladiator’ and all that?”

Orion froze and turned his faceplates down, hiding in Megatronus’ armpit. His voice came out a bit high, but he soldiered on. “Whatever do you mean…?”

He couldn’t imagine how Megatronus would have ended up reading any such story, even if…even if there was an active sub-genre focusing on cross-caste romances, and specifically gladiators as the low caste participant. There were even several that clearly used Megatronus himself as inspiration, though the romantic interest character had a different name and was described with cosmetic differences in looks.  Now, Orion might have read one or two of those, or a few, but still… For Megatronus to be able to name one of those novels, had he actually read it? Orion knew they were trash, but he’d be forced to admit they were successfully titillating trash. That was the only reason he’d ever finished the first one he picked up, and he knew, he _knew_ they depicted gladiators unrealistically… Any actual gladiator would have to be mad if they were to read that ludicrous drivel, wouldn’t they?

“Eh, come on, sure it was all kinds of silly, but at least the interface scenes were pretty hot,” Megatronus murmured down at Orion, and the grin was clearly apparent in his voice. Orion’s finials twitched and slanted backwards in shame, and his vents cycled out a puff of air he’d been holding in.

“I’ve only read…a couple. …Under ten at most.  I know they’re stupid...” Orion said miserably, still hiding his face plates against Megatronus.

Megatronus emitted a short chuckle, mostly inaudible but apparent in how his chassis jumped shortly against Orion. “Rumble and Frenzy got me that one as a joke since it’s obviously about me. Like I said, silly, but at least good for the porn.” He mostly sounded very self-satisfied, and the archivist was mollified by how he evidently wasn’t angry or disappointed in Orion, at least.

To his misfortune, Orion had regardless underestimated the breadth of his brother’s cruel streak. “So tell me, how’d the real deal compare with the stories…?” Megatronus continued relentlessly, patting Orion’s aft. His smug grin was still very much audible.

Orion groaned and brought a fisted servo down against Megatronus’ unyielding armor, which only elicited another laugh from him. He kept pestering Orion to answer, jostling him against himself, even as Orion’s fans whirled into a high-pitched whine.

Finally, he gave up, and sighed. He raised his head and looked at Megatronus with a sad frown. “Well, if you must know…reality didn’t completely live up to the fantasies.”

He only managed to keep a straight face for an astrosecond, met with Megatronus’ disbelieving expression of affront. His lip plates curved into a smile and he continued calmly. “In the novels, the cute racer can take the whole spike.”

After a short moment of stupefied silence, Megatronus’ laugh started as a quiet shaking of his chassis, developing into an audible guffaw. “You little-!” he grinned wildly at Orion, and knuckled his helm with force that was probably gentle for him. Orion took it without flinching, snickering right back at his brother.

After calming down again, Megatron eventually spoke up. The devious grin that re-appeared on his face plates made Orion cautious.

“Maybe I should make my next book about the romance of a gladiator and a data clerk. Now that I have the practical experience…”

“Don’t you dare!” Orion exclaimed in horror, and punched the expanse of sturdy chest plates. Megatronus just kept laughing, and squeezed Orion harder against himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently got an idea for a little follow-up that might become chapter 3, but we will see. An intro in the form of a short comic should be around at some point, as well.
> 
> By the by, my TF tumblr where I occasionally draw things, is megatronwasright.tumblr.com. I'd love to chat with any like-minded fellows!


End file.
